


The High Priestess

by orphan_account



Series: Tarot [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Artists block, Cocaine, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Multi, No beta we die like illiterates, Recreational Drug Use, SCREW CANON I DO WHAT I WANT, Sexual Harassment, but it gets shut down real quick, don't do drugs kids, inspired by songs but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:46:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25024885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The High Priestessknowledge, wisdom, learning, intuition, impatience, virtue, purityselfishness, shallowness, misunderstanding, ignorance
Series: Tarot [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812100





	The High Priestess

“You overthink things too much!”

The statement is directed at her.

“No I don’t”

This could be believable if she wasn’t staring intently at an art display contemplating the motion it portrays.

“Cut yourself some slack, your art is great”

Avery rolls her eyes without turning her head, she’s intently focused on the painting in front of her.

“With that stare you’ll burn a hole right through the canvas!”

This only causes Avery to glare at the painting more, the night coloured swirls that radiate across the canvas are starting to make her dizzy.

Her left hand cradles a glass of blood red wine, gently swirling around to mimic the painting. As a budding artist she hates art museums, not for the talent and beauty other artist are able to present. But for the looming sense of inferiority that is carried with each canvas.

Avery and Liam move through the museum in less than an hour, pushing past tourist googling at artworks and tour guides preaching their histories. They stop occasionally to take in a select few artworks, and to listen to the hushed drama between security guard and handsy viewer. 

They’re here as students to understand the art community and it’s history. Avery would rather take a walk through the city, keeping an eye out for street art hidden in every alleyway. The art that makes a statement rather than a canvas with alluring designs, that the wealthy put a price on. Liam isn’t apposed to the museum, but if they were in the streets his incessant cussing wouldn’t be as noticeable.  
They exit the museum through the gift shop, shoving past parents scolding crying children.

The stone city square is a nice alternative from the claustrophobic halls of the art museum. The square is guarded by two fierce stone lions, but in the name of city life they lay dormant covered in bird droppings. Avery is glad to be out from under the eyes of dead artists, she skips down the stairs and into the streets hailing a taxi.

“Oi, slow down will ya”

This is followed by a string of cuss words as Liam tumbles down the stairs to the taxi.

“So, what can I do for you, poppet”

Avery throws a handful of bills at the taxi driver.

“East Crawford, May Street”

The drivers eyes widen and a string of curses leave his mouth.

“That’s a long way out, poppet”

He still has a sleazy grin on his face and his eyes are roaming her body with lust.

“Too far for you?”

Avery lets out a breath of air she didn’t know she was holding as Liam interjects.

“Not at all”

The driver motions for them to hop in, a look of disgust on his face. Avery is glad she brought Liam with her, roaming eyes are better than touchy hands.

The inside of the cab is covered in years of filth, the black leather seats are covered in grease and stick to Avery’s bare thighs, it smells of booze and sweat. The cab starts with a splutter and shake, the world outside blurs with motion and Avery’s tired eyes.

Even with Liams body pressed up against her, Avery feels the numbing cold in her legs freezing her bones. The last rays of fire have escaped the sky, leaving the earth with an inky blue blanket. The silence is fractured when Liam prompts a conversation.

“Are you heading out with Ludwig tomorrow?”

“No, were studying together at my place”

“Same thing”

The conversation ends there, dead before it even started. The rest of the trip is silent. Avery stares out the window, the cabs headlights create shadows on the road. The forests around them seem to move with the cab, like long limbed figures with their heads in the clouds.

The forest clears to show the lime lights of East Crawford, the grey streets dotted with posters and prostitutes. The town stands between highlands of rust coloured grass, the sky is a blue tinged grey. Heavy with the sorrows of the city. 

Avery watches as Liam walks along the darkened street.There’s something urging her to run after him before the darkness consumes him.There’s no word for what Avery feels in this moment, the self-destructive carelessness that tells her gamble with her life for a taste of freedom. 

Avery feels for her keys and steps in to her apartment. She’s met with soft humming of the heater and the sharp ding of the elevator. Everything inside the apartment block is clean and modern, the minimalist hallways lead in to the night. The apartment is littered with text books and loose notes, a small black cat lounges across a furry carpet its yellow eyes turned towards Avery. 

Nights like these always feel as though they should be shared with someone. The soundless air should be filled with laughter or loving banter, but there is a shortage of love and lust can never compensate for it. Maybe it's better to be alone then become another body for sale. Avery take the liberty of finding a wine glass before she drowns herself in the scarlet liquid. She stands at the window and stares down in to the empty road, the noir streets are perfectly set for the mood. Avery of often finds herself here waiting for inspiration.

But tonight the streets stay empty and once Avery’s glass is drained she steps away from the window and back into her apartment. She stumbles into her bedroom it’s the same blank white as the rest of the apartment, she hasn’t bothered to add her own flair since she moved in. Avery’s hands are shivering as she yanks open the top draw of the night sand, the hands gloss over the insides of the draw grabbing at a small zip-lock bag. 

The warm light of the kitchen illuminates the pearly stardust in the bag, it looks harmless this way. The reality of the powder grittier and less romantic than what Hollywood movies make it out to be, it’s something to be ashamed of or something to make you forget you're ashamed. Avery uses it because the world is so numb and silent without it, colourless like the minimalist apartment. Ironic for something the colour of snow.

The dust begins to disappear faster than Avery can count the lines she puts on to the kitchen table. Her mind is flying high and her fingers are more jittery than before. Stumbling back in to the bedroom Avery falls on the soft surface, the drug promising her a dreamless night and a change from the blank white nothingness.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed what ever this is :)
> 
> constructive criticism is appreciated, be nice to each other in the comments.


End file.
